Mating Games 5: Let the Good Times Roll!
by Kimberly T
Summary: Not one but two surprising proposals. Musings on the way things were, and what might change in the near future. All this and more of 1996 New Orleans, too! Yes, the clan is having fun... But how long will it last? 31 in the series. COMPLETE!
1. Starting Anew

**LIFE GOES ON**

**MATING GAMES, PART 5:**

_**Let the Good Times Roll!**_

By Kimberly T. (email: kimbertow -at- yahoo dot com)

Standard disclaimers and acknowledgments apply. I'm not making a dime of profit; please don't sue.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**5.1: Starting Anew**

Angela knew that most American calendars showed Sunday as the first day of the week, which always struck her as rather odd for a nation of mostly Christians. Wasn't the Sabbath, the holy day that was designated for rest, supposed to be the seventh and last day of the week? After all, God had rested on the seventh day after making Adam, not before starting all of Creation.

Sitting in the back of the New Orleans Clan's delivery truck, she asked that question of her escorts for that Sunday night's trip into New Orleans, Lucretia and Cassius. It wasn't really a question she was burning to have answered, but she was trying hard to find "small talk" that would not detract from the conversation being held on the other side of the truck, but would also cover the occasional awkward silences emanating from that side.

Brooklyn sat on the other side of the truck, with his date for the night: Martha. She was the New Orleans Clan's primary cook for the night hours… and, as Broadway had discovered last night, their resident successful author. Angela knew that, before last night, Brooklyn hadn't really been considering Martha as potential mate material for him; she seemed nice enough, but not all that interesting. But after Broadway had excitedly told everyone what he'd learned last night, Brooklyn realized he'd been wrong about her; Martha had simply been overshadowed by her more aggressive rookery sisters. Not only was she a marvel in the kitchen, but under her _nom de plume_ of Martha Dubois, she was highly witty and good humored, and an excellent storyteller.

At dusk, just before they'd boarded the truck that would take them into New Orleans, Brooklyn had said to Martha, "How about we start over? Pretend we're only meeting each other tonight, total strangers until right this minute. Hi, I'm Brooklyn."

Martha had giggled before replying in kind, and so far during the truck ride, she'd proven to be a much more animated conversationalist than Angela had glimpsed earlier. Brooklyn really seemed to be interested, too; not just politely feigning interest. So perhaps Martha was—what was the modern phrase?—back in the running, with those competing for Brooklyn's affections.

Angela thought to herself that if Brooklyn did choose to court Martha, she'd make a pleasant addition to the Manhattan Clan; almost like having Angela's rookery sister Naomi around to talk to. But she hesitated from saying so, not wanting to appear as if she was trying to influence Brooklyn one way or the other, for any of the available females. (Especially considering the underhanded tactics that at least one of the competing sisters had already exhibited. Angela didn't want or need another female trying to suck up to her, hoping to gain influence with Brooklyn in the process!)

So she tried to stay out of the conversation that Brooklyn and Martha were having, without just sitting there like a rock for the whole trip in to New Orleans. Which meant making small talk with Lucretia and Cassius. For most of the trip, she'd been asking questions about the city and the attractions they were taking her to see, but ten minutes ago Lucretia had gently shushed her and said, "Don't try to learn everything before we get there. Let the city and its wonders unfold all around you!"

But it was hard, refraining from asking more questions about New Orleans; there was so much she wanted to know! This was the first chance she'd had to really go exploring since arriving in Manhattan last summer… and from what she'd heard so far, New Orleans was even more exotic than New York!

The only thing that would make it better would be to explore the city during Mardi Gras, when the gargoyles all pretended they were costumed humans and walked freely among the tourists and New Orleans' general populace. Angela had had a taste of that last Halloween, and couldn't wait for another such opportunity! Perhaps next February, they could come down here again…

But in the meantime, she was exploring anew! As much as Angela appreciated having a good solid home to live in and perch on every day, rather than a too-small skiff that never sank but occasionally capsized and frequently had to bailed out for comfort's sake, she had really begun to miss the opportunity to go to new places and see new sights.

Not that she was bored with New York already; she'd really only explored half of Manhattan since her arrival, and even after she'd finished seeing everything there was to see in the clan's island protectorate, there were four more boroughs nearby to explore. But she absolutely would not pass up a chance to see another city, particularly not this one!

She did feel somewhat guilty about going to see the city without Broadway at her side; he was almost as eager to see New Orleans as she was. But in Broadway's case, it was because he'd known of this city before; he'd read each of Martha's books from cover to cover at least four times, long before learning they had been written by a fellow gargoyle. Angela thought that was part of the city's appeal to him; he'd read of it in print so often, seeing it with his own eyes would be a little bit like visiting an old friend's home. (Though for Angela, part of the appeal was that it was so unfamiliar!)

But Broadway's chance to see the sights Martha had described would have to wait until tomorrow night; he had already agreed to take on Martha's duties in the kitchen while Martha herself was on dates with Brooklyn. And when Angela had been approached just before dawn by Lucretia and Cassius, an older mated pair who were going in to New Orleans anyway and said they would be happy to show her the sights, she had jumped for the opportunity with her talons outstretched.

Oh, she'd go in again tomorrow night at Broadway's side, and act as his left wing to help him glide to all the places he wanted to see. Tomorrow she'd see the French Quarter, the Musée Conti Historical Wax Museum, the place they called Mardi Gras World, and (naturally, for Broadway) the French Market. But tonight, Cassius and Lucretia were going to take her to the places that Broadway might not be interested in, but that she definitely wanted to see! When Lex had called last night, he'd raved about not only the French Quarter but the Aquarium of the Americas, and the Audubon Zoological Gardens. And Angela had already heard a few clan tales about the Cities of the Dead…

Angela noticed her tail was impatiently twitching again, and sternly wrapped it around her calf. There was no need to go acting like a hatchling! Just because she was off to explore again… (_Wheee_!)

_To be continued_…


	2. Telling Tales

**5.2: Telling Tales**

Hudson sat comfortably in one of the overstuffed chairs in the New Orleans Clan's library, sipping a glass of ice-water as he paused in his story-telling. Benedict, the New Orleans Clan's chronicler, sat at a desk nearby scribbling notes, with a tape recorder sitting on the desk in front of him; recording Hudson's voice and the tales of his old clan for posterity. Ursula, Hudson's newfound sweetheart, sat in a corner quietly doing embroidery; Hudson was perfectly fine with her listening in while he told of his clan's long history. He'd likely have been telling her some of these stories anyway, in the process of their courtship; why not catch two fish in one net?

Hudson finished his sip, then resumed telling about the clan's battle with a band of raiding Vikings, in the year 918 as humans had reckoned it. "When 'twas obvious that the second boat's crew wouldn't be warned off by the looks of us and our battle-readiness, our leader said 'twas time to be deadly. And that second crew came ashore, but they never got within stone's throw of the humans' homes. My red rookery sister put a spear right through the Viking at the forefront, and almost got the man right behind him as well! But the second one dodged around his dying leader, and tried to run for the trees. So I and my blue rookery brother went after him, and--"

Benedict interrupted, "Pardon me… which blue rookery brother? The one with the high crest and the ridge running down his spine, or the one with the doubled knee-spurs?"

"The one with the high crest. Anyway, we went after him, plucked him up off his feet, glided back and tossed him right onto the spears and axes of his comrades; that took four of them out at once! And while we were doing that, our green elder picked up--"

"Pardon me again; which green elder? The female with the black mane, the female with the club-ended tail, or the male with webbed wings?"

"It was the female with the club-ended tail, sorry." Hudson paused before continuing, and admitted, "I begin to understand why humans insist on naming everyone and everything. After a while, it surely saves time in talking..."

Ursula quietly chuckled, as she continued her embroidering.

_To be continued_…


	3. The Question

**5.3: The Question**

A few hours later, Lexington sat on a rooftop across form Pat O'Brien's, one of the best bars in New Orleans, idly watching the lights from their famous "fire fountain" and listening to the beautiful music coming from the piano bar.

Rebecca sat beside him at the rooftop's edge, holding his hand and twining her tail around his as they listened to the bar patrons singing, a song from a movie that had just been released last year. Rebecca, who had a lovely singing voice, was unconsciously singing along with them under her breath: "…And can you feel the love tonight? It is where we are…"

And Lexington found himself murmuring along with her, "It's enough for this wide-eyed wanderer, that we got this far…"

His heart started hammering in his chest, loud enough he could hardly hear the music anymore. But he suddenly knew, knew deep in his bones, that this was the perfect moment…

"R-Rebecca?"

Still dreamy-eyed from the song, she turned to him. "Yes, Lex?"

"…You wanna be mates?"

Her eyes went wide, and Lex wanted to kick himself good and hard. What had happened to that big romantic speech he'd dreamed up and been silently rehearsing for hours? He'd just blurted that out like a—

Several stories down, the patrons of Pat O'Brien's patio bar paused in their idle talk, as a shriek of pure joy wafted down to them from somewhere up above. But by the time any of them looked up, the two figures on the rooftop had tumbled back from the edge, out of sight.

_To be continued_…


	4. Just Can't Put It Down

**5.4: Just Can't Put It Down**

The kitchen timer went off again, and Broadway growled under his breath as he reluctantly inserted a bookmark where he'd been reading, and tucked the book under his arm while he tended to the casserole baking in the oven.

Usually, he loved cooking; loved creating and recreating dishes for others to eat, almost as much as he loved eating! But not tonight, or last night either for that matter. Right now, he wanted to **_read_**!

Last night, after seeing how Broadway's gaze had kept wandering over to where the galley proofs of _Sweet Lies_ were stacked, Martha had laughed and told him to go ahead and take one for reading. One of the two complimentary copies was destined for her partner Richard's personal library, but the others was hers, and she chose to give it to him, as a souvenir of his vacation. She would simply ask the publisher for another copy, or wait until the book was given its official cover and released to the public next spring.

Broadway hadn't hesitated more than an instant or two before grabbing the book and scurrying off to a stool in the corner of the kitchen, to perch there and begin reading. He used to think that if he was ever given the opportunity to get a regular paying job, he'd want to be either a chef for a fancy restaurant, or a private detective. But now he decided to add a third possible occupation to his list: book reviewer. Those guys were so lucky, to get these galley proofs of books weeks or even months before they were released to the public, just so they could write reviews for the newspapers and for publishers to use on the back covers! Forget about getting paid for this; Broadway would happily pay to do it!

But a professional reviewer would probably need to read a lot faster than Broadway could, even if he'd sped up a lot since he'd first started learning, nearly two years ago. It had taken him most of last night to read through about two-thirds of the book, and he'd only stopped once or twice to eat what Martha had fixed for him (first the oyster stew he'd liked so much from _A Dish to Die For_, and the second time a tiramisu dessert that was featured in _Sweet Lies_.)

He'd stopped reading a little while before dawn came, just so he could find Brooklyn after his rookery brother got back from the date with Marie, and tell Brooklyn about Martha's career as a writer. Brooklyn had been almost as surprised as Broadway had been, and promised that he would seriously reconsider his previous evaluation of Martha; he'd obviously been too hasty to nearly dismiss her as potential mate material.

Just like Angela and Lexington, Broadway had promised to do his best to not influence Brooklyn's choice of a mate, one way or another. (Well, technically, being so enthusiastic about Martha's writing might count as influence, but Broadway had justified that as just being excited about _any_ gargoyle having a career that had previously been done only by humans.) But privately, Broadway was really hoping now that Brooklyn would choose Martha. That would be just great—no, wonderful!—if she came to Manhattan to live with them. She and Broadway could help each other out in the kitchen, experimenting with new dishes… and maybe Broadway could help her with her writing a little, if she decided to move her characters Herbert and Irmina to Manhattan too…

But in the meantime, tonight Broadway was running the kitchen mostly solo. He'd had some help before all the humans had gone to bed, and after 4 a.m., a guy named Jeff was supposed to wake up and help him with the day's baking. But it was mostly just himself, trying to cook and read at the same time, without either burning anything or getting food stains on his book. So far, he was doing okay; the casseroles were turning out fine, and he'd gotten through two more chapters of _Sweet Lies_. He might even be able to finish the book before dawn!

Just then, a bright orange gargoyle named Joseph came through the kitchen door, appreciatively sniffing the air. "Mmm, smells good! Hey, Broadway, great news! Your rookery brother Lexington just agreed to become mates with our Rebecca! We got a call from the safe house in town a few minutes ago; they stopped in long enough to give everyone the good news before going to Tujage's Restaurant. We have two human clan member who work the final shift there, and after hours they're going to host a little engagement dinner for the lovebirds!"

"That's great!" Broadway said with a wraparound grin. "Hey, do you guys have human-type mating ceremonies down here? I'd love to try making and decorating a wedding cake!"

Joseph assured him that they did indeed model their mating ceremonies after typical human Catholic weddings, and that wedding cakes were part of their tradition. Broadway made a note to look through some of Martha's many cookbooks, to see if they had recipes for wedding cakes… just as soon as he finished reading _Sweet Lies_!

_To be continued_…


	5. Things Are Different Now

**5.5: Things are Different Now**

Up in the library, Benedict and Hudson had paused in their recording of the Wyvern Clan's chronicle, while they and Ursula talked about the good news that was spreading through the mansion. "An official pairing already!" Benedict said with a smile, as he sipped from a glass of the wine that had just been brought to them for celebrating with. "And it's been less than a week since your arrival!"

"I know life moves at a faster pace for the humans these days," Hudson mused as he studied the ruby-red depths of his glass, "but I never realized how much it was catching."

Ursula took a sip of her wine before saying, "They did decide awfully fast… but I'm not really surprised," as she set her wine down and picked up her embroidery again. "Our Rebecca has always been one to decide things quickly, and once she decides to pursue something, whether a new hobby or a new male, she leaps for it with all her talons out."

"Aye, and Lexington is like that to some extent," Hudson agreed. "But still, 'twas the swiftest courting I've ever heard of! Back in the old clan, when the unattached youngsters went inland to look for mates from our sister clan, we sometimes didn't hear from them for months! The soonest any party ever came back with mates in their wake, or sent a messenger to say they'd be perching with the inland clan for the rest of their nights, was three full moons."

"Well, it's not likely that you'll be staying down here for a full twelve weeks," Ursula pointed out, "as much as some of us would wish otherwise. Frankly, I think your Lexington's being quite sensible about it… and really, quite considerate as well. Of the five young ladies, Rebecca is obviously the most compatible with him, with their mutual love of computers and exploring. By agreeing now to become mates, it gives us all that much more time to prepare for the mating ceremony."

"Prepare?" Hudson cocked his good eye at her. "Why do we need time to… Och, don't tell me you do fancy ceremonies, the way that humans do?"

Benedict's smile was wry. "Oh, yes. I remember having to wait a full six weeks between my Therese and I officially choosing each other, and actually being mated to each other. There were fittings and rehearsals to attend, and that was only on my side of the bargain; most of the time, Therese and the females helping her were kept busy from dusk to dawn."

"And considering that this mating ceremony will actually seal the alliance between our clans," Ursula said with a gleam in her eyes, "It will likely be even fancier still! Speaking of fittings, we'd best either ask Lexington to return to the estate soon, or send a seamstress—Yvette, most likely—out to measure him for his wedding clothes. It'll be a challenge to make a tuxedo for a web-winged gargoyle…"

Hudson groaned and leaned forward to bury his head in his hands. Then he straightened up, and gave Ursula a stern look. "Listen well, female… I'm agreeable to the notion of us becoming mates as well. But I'll not have any unnecessary frippery for the ceremony, and I'll not _ever_ wear a tuxedo!"

Ursula said nothing, though she gave him a peculiar look. Benedict spoke instead, with a chuckle; "That was the most off-handed mating agreement I've ever heard. Would you mind if I recorded that for the chronicles?"

"Eh?" Hudson stared at him, then sat back with an odd smile on his face. "Well, I suppose it was one, at that…"

"Yes, Benedict, you absolutely should record that," Ursula said as she firmly set aside her embroidery project, and got up from her chair. "Tomorrow. For now, would you mind leaving the library to us? Hudson and I have something to discuss…"

Benedict was still chuckling as he hastily departed.

_To be continued_…


	6. Thoughts About the FuturePast

**5.6: Thoughts About the Future/Past**

"To our future," Lex said grandly, as he and Rebecca clinked their glasses together.

"To our future," Rebecca echoed, with her beak split in a wide grin. This was the happiest night of her life!

After the proposal, Rebecca and Lex had dropped by the safe house to tell everyone there the good news. Martin and Cecilia had been the only ones there, on break between patrols, but they'd been delighted for her and promised to spread the word to everyone else. Martin had called the patrollers while Lex and Rebecca were still there, and even as Robert was giving them his congratulations via radio, Cecilia had announced with a grin that she'd just contacted the clanfolk working at Tujage's, and they insisted the two lovebirds come by for an engagement dinner!

Rebecca was only too happy to accept, Tujage's was one of her favorite restaurants, and the Rousseau brothers who worked the night shift there were two of her favorite human clanfolk. She brought Lex there at 10:30, just after the last regular patron had left for the night, and they snuck in to find a table set for two, with candles lit and a basket of piping-hot French bread waiting for them. Tujage's normally served only tea and coffee for beverages, but either Evan or Brian Rousseau must have dashed out and picked up a bottle of champagne just for them, because there was a bottle of bubbly in a bucket of ice sitting on the table.

Lex had deftly hooked a talon into the cork and popped it out before pouring drinks for them both, and just after they toasted each other, Evan came up with a wide grin, bearing a platter. "We begin with Tujage's famous Shrimp Remoulade! _Bon appetit_!"

"I've never had anyone waiting on me before," Lex admitted with a sheepish grin, as the platter of shrimp covered with remoulade sauce was set between them.

"Hey, you make our Becky happy, and we'll make your evenings special every night you're in town!" Evan said with a smile.

Then Brian stepped out from behind his brother and said with a wink, "But then if you make her _un_happy, we make your life hell, eh?"

"Brian!" Rebecca protested, but Lex only laughed and said he had no intention of ever making her unhappy; that she was the best girl he'd ever met or could ever hope to meet. Rebecca just knew she was blushing copper-red again, but who cared? This was all so wonderful; she was so happy!

Brian and Evan went back to the kitchen to prepare the soup _du jour_; tonight, that was eggplant and tomato soup (excellent if it was done right, and the cooks here knew how to do it right!) That would be followed by Tujage's famous Beef Brisket with Creole Sauce, and they'd have pecan pie for dessert. In the meantime, Rebecca and Lex munched on the shrimp while chatting about what life would be like for her in Manhattan.

"I know you probably didn't get a good first impression, considering you were shot by a Quarryman your second night there," Le said ruefully. "But really, New York's a great place to live, and our friends in the P.I.T. are making it more friendly for us all the time!"

"It'll be great to meet Bugjuice and Riffraff in the flesh," Rebecca agreed, thinking of what Lex had told her about meeting one of their online buddies at a P.I.T. meeting. "And before I got shot, I was already impressed by a lot about New York. But even after your city becomes home, I know I'll want to come back here from time to time for visits. At the very least, for Mardi Gras; you just have to experience Mardi Gras!"

She wasn't a total showoff like Marie, but Rebecca never wanted to miss a chance to openly walk the streets with her clan, amidst all of Humanity; part of what made the Mardi Gras celebration so special. But she knew she'd also want to come back here just to visit her old clan, her family; Marcel, Brian, Evan, her sisters, Robert…

Especially Robert. She and Robert had been best friends since they'd hatched together. Even before he'd matured enough to realize his sexual orientation, Robert had never really fit in with his rookery brothers, just as Rebecca had always felt like she didn't fit in with her rookery sisters. So the two of them had clung to each other, and been there for each other through thick and thin. When Marie had gotten too nasty and reduced Rebecca to tears, Robert had comforted her and shown her the best and sneakiest ways to get even. When Robert had been left behind out of the other males' games, Rebecca had played tag with him, and challenged him with puzzles and other brainteasers that would keep them occupied together until dawn.

When the elder had begun making pointed queries about why Robert wasn't doing what his rookery brothers were doing, Rebecca had defended him fiercely enough to get everyone to back off for a while. And when Robert had finally "come out of the closet" and faced the consternation and even anger of the rest of the clan, it was Rebecca who'd stood by him, almost in tears but insisting that anything they might do to him, they had to do to her too, even banishment if it came to that. Though thankfully it hadn't, and nearly all the clan had accepted him eventually. As Adam had pointed out repeatedly, "We are what we are, whether feather-wing or leather-wing, male or female, gargoyle or human… or something in between. Some things simply can't be changed; only accepted."

And when the other three males in their generations had chosen their mates, and Rebecca had been one of those left mateless… Robert had tried to be a mate for her. Even though they'd both known by then that he was 'gay as a daisy', he'd tried; that one time deep in the bayou where no one could see or hear them, they had tried… and it just hadn't worked. The mutual embarrassment and disappointment had almost torn their relationship apart, but not quite, and within a moon's time they'd been laughing together again.

When Robert had found Philip and fallen in love, Rebecca had been honestly happy for them. When the clan at first refused Robert's petition to make Philip a member, Rebecca had talked Isabel into staying in town and perching beside her and Robert in Phil's attic, for a full two months before the elders gave in. When Robert and Philip had sworn their vows to each other by the light of the Winter Solstice moon, Rebecca had been their witness. And she'd been the most frequent visitor to their home in town, until that awful night last March when Robert had woken alone. He hadn't known why Philip hadn't come home that night; no one had known… until the headline for next day's paper, seen on the newsstands just before dawn, lamented the loss of such a promising quarterback in a car wreck the day before…

Robert had almost gone to greet his last sunrise. Rebecca had literally wrapped herself around him to hold him back from the edge of a roof that morning, so he couldn't topple over and plummet to his death without taking her with him. When they'd awoken that evening, they'd been back out at the estate; Adam had heard the news, and had stayed awake long enough to find them, get them down off the roof and put them into the truck headed home. And he'd excused both Robert and Rebecca from all duties for a full month afterwards, while making sure they did useful things around the estate; anything to keep Robert occupied, and Rebecca with Robert. And Rebecca had stuck to him like a burr in his tail hairs, until he'd finally started smiling again.

Adam's considerate treatment of Robert during the trial to get Philip accepted, and years later when Philip died, made his most recent behavior all the more outrageous in Rebecca's eyes. How could he have made Robert stay out on patrol, solo, just because Robert was gay and he was worried about the new clan's reaction? That was implying that Robert was something to be ashamed of! And Rebecca would have let Adam have an earful, too, but they'd been in such a hurry to get to the estate before dawn… and Rebecca had been so worried that Brooklyn would take one look at her beautiful sisters and forget all about her… that she'd just let it slide. She'd personally apologized to her brother over the phone just before dawn the next day, but it was no wonder Robert was planning to stay in town after his patrol rotation was over; he must still be feeling hurt and betrayed by Adam. How could their clan leader do that to him? Up until recently, Rebecca had been convinced that Adam was the best leader their clan had ever had, but now she wondered…

But more importantly, Rebecca worried about how Robert would take it, when she left for Manhattan permanently. And she wondered if he'd be willing to change clans and protectorates as well… Didn't New York have its own population of gay humans? Maybe…

"Rebecca? Hello?" Lex snapped his talons in front of her face. "I'd swear you've been out of it for at least two minutes; what's on your mind?"

Should she ask Lex if his clan would accept Robert? No, not yet; first she should broach the idea to Robert. It was extremely hard for most gargoyles to leave their protectorates; Rebecca was okay with it only because she'd been contemplating it ever since they'd first heard about the new clan. She'd talk to Robert, get him to at least consider the possibility, before working on the Manhattan Clan. As Lex's mate and one of their very few females, surely she'd have some clout with them… and with his ability to keep a cool head in a crisis, not to mention his artistic skills, Robert would be an asset to any clan!

In the meantime, she smiled ruefully and spoke of something else that had been bothering her. "Well, if you must know… When I got shot by that Quarryman on the hovercycle, that was actually the first time I've ever been seriously wounded in a fight. And for a while there, before I found a good hiding spot and even for a little while after, I actually thought I was going to die. I'm a little ashamed of myself for running, instead of turning back and just throwing myself straight at the Quarryman, to take the enemy down with me. That's probably what the warriors of your clan would have done in old Scotland, wouldn't they?"

Lex hastily assured her that even the best warrior knew when to run instead of fighting, and if she hadn't hidden and survived instead of going out in a blaze of battle-glory, he and his clan would have been all the poorer for not having met her!

Brian agreed that it was a damn good thing she hadn't gotten herself killed, as he set the next course in front of them. "Now, no more talk of dying tonight! This be the Big Easy, _cherie_; _Laissez les bontemps rouler_!"

_To be continued_…


	7. Finer Dining

**5.7: Finer Dining**

At the same time that Lexington and Rebecca were sitting down to dinner, so were Brooklyn and his date for the evening. But instead of Tujage's, Martha had led Brooklyn to where another human clan member worked; a place called The Pelican Club. "The Pelican's only been open for a few years," Marie said as they glided down to land by the back door of the establishment, "but it's already achieved a great reputation for both casual and fine dining!"

The clan member working there, Claude Dubois, ushered them inside with a wide grin. "Martha, _cherie_, good to see you in town again! You don't come in nearly enough; got to get out from behind your desk and the stove more often! And Brooklyn, welcome to the Pelican Club! You're in for a treat tonight, guar-an-teed!"

Brooklyn was impressed by the club's décor, and just like his rookery brother, he was impressed, a little uneasy and a little sheepish at being waited on by humans. Back when he'd been hatched, not even most humans were ever waited on by anybody; that special treatment had been reserved for nobility.

After seating them with a flourish, Claude told them with a wink that he'd confided to his fellow chefs about planning to entertain someone after hours; his coworkers had naturally assumed he intended to bring his current sweetheart to the club, and had gone out of their way to set aside some special treats for the occasion. Tonight they would start with baked oysters, done in the Pelican Club style; served on the half shell with apple-smoked bacon, roasted red peppers, Parmesan and garlic herb butter. Then the _soup_ _du jour_, which tonight was chestnut soup; guaranteed to make the taste buds sing! And for the entrée tonight, they would have their choice of two excellent dishes. The Grilled Black Angus Ribeye was served with smoked red onion relish, chipotle barbecue sauce, caramelized pineapple, honey cinnamon mashed sweet potatoes and baby vegetables. But the Walnut and Honey Mustard Crusted Rack of Lamb would be served with Yukon gold potatoes with truffle oil, baby vegetables and rosemary garlic au jus…

"Wow," Brooklyn breathed, his eyes wide. All he could think was that his rookery brother Broadway would probably _maim_ somebody for the chance to walk in here and just breathe in the aromas for a while. And to think that just a few months ago, they'd been living in the clocktower and eating rat stew twice a night…!

Martha chuckled at Brooklyn's expression, and told Claude that they'd have both entrées, one of each and split between the two of them. Claude said she had the wisdom of Solomon, before heading back to the kitchen to bring out the appetizers. Brooklyn cleared his throat, and looked over at Martha as he said sheepishly, "So, uh… you come here often?"

"Not as often as I'd like!" Martha laughed. "Oh, once a week I prepare some extra dishes ahead of time, declare the next night 'cook's night off' and get far away from the kitchen. But even then, I don't always come into town; if I've got a hot story idea simmering in my head, I'll spend the whole night writing instead of just a few hours. I probably come into town an average of twice a month, and all too often I spend that doing research for my next book! Of course, since one of my characters is a chef whose sharp tongue frequently sets her at odds with the head chef, Irmina moves from restaurant to restaurant in New Orleans on an appallingly frequent basis. So of course my research for the series involves getting into those restaurants, and sampling their signature cuisines…"

"Sampling them, and improving upon them!" Claude threw in as he came back to the table with a platter of baked oysters. "If we hadn't run out tonight, you would have had your choice of three entrées; the third would have been the Filet Mignon. And though our saucier will never publicly admit it, 'twas Martha's suggestion, conveyed by yours truly, that perfected the filet's Shiitake Mushroom-Madeira sauce!"

"I'm impressed," Brooklyn said, and he honestly meant it. After Claude withdrew to the kitchen once more, he said, "I admit, I haven't read your latest book yet, though I did read the first two; clan life's been so hectic lately that there hasn't been much time to just relax and kick back with a good book. But Broadway described it to me once, so I have to ask: what inspired you to write about Herbert getting into a fight and using _fresh-caught shrimp_ as weapons?"

Martha laughed, and told the tale; it turned out that she'd been inspired by a bizarre incident that had happened on an older couple's patrol six years ago. "I keep a journal of story ideas as they occur to me, no matter how crazy or morbid or silly they are. I'll admit I never really thought that one would be used, but when the plot of _A Taste For Mayhem_ took Herbert past the docks, I knew I just had to try it out!"

"Like I said, I haven't read it yet… but considering Broadway kept stopping to laugh himself silly while he was trying to tell me about it, I'd say the scene worked pretty well! So, uh… what's the next book about? What's the title, _Sweet Dreams_?"

"_Sweet Lies_," Martha corrected him. "Well, it starts when Irmina gets herself hired on as a pastry chef for Broussard's…"

Brooklyn listened attentively. Broadway was right; even when speaking instead of writing, Martha was a fine storyteller! So far, this date was abut 200 better than last night's date with Marie. And he made a mental note to use the same tactic tomorrow night, with Yvette; to get her to talking about her passion, about the clothing she designed and sewed for both humans and gargoyles. Then he could just listen and learn, and not have to try to dodge around attempts to trap him into making any promises about later on. Though he had a hunch that Martha would never do that anyway (unlike Marie, who had made last night's ride back to the estate pretty damn uncomfortable, in more ways than one.) A good thing to remember for the next date! But in the meantime, having made the mental note, he sat back to enjoy the story.

_To be continued_…


	8. Laissez les bontemps rouler!

**5.8: "****Laissez les bontemps rouler!"**

Angela was also enjoying herself immensely. She had already seen the Aquarium of the Americas, and the City of the Dead where the "Voodoo Queen" Marie Laveau was entombed, but now she and her escorts were aboard the Steamboat Natchez, listening to jazz music while sampling the cuisine. The steamboat had returned from its evening dinner cruise at 9 o'clock, and long after the last passenger had disembarked, one of the crewmen had come on deck and quietly beckoned them aboard.

The steamboat's resident jazz band, the Dukes of Dixieland, had departed with the last of the guests, but crewmember Johnny LeBeau popped a tape of their best works into the sound system, before serving dinner to his three gargoyle guests. Praline Chicken, Catfish Louisiana, Green Beans Almondine, iced tea, and for dessert Johnny promised they'd have the Natchez's famous Bread Pudding with Steamboat Sauce…

Sipping her iced tea and looking around in the steamboat's sumptuous dining hall, Angela thought wistfully about what it would be like if she could somehow taking this boat with her, on another World Tour. She'd have all the comforts of a proper home, while seeing all there was to see! Wouldn't that be wonderful? The best of both worlds, indeed!

"By the way… since we're so close to it, it would be a shame to skip the French Quarter entirely tonight," Lucretia said with a conspiratorial grin. "Trust me, it'll be worth a second look on tomorrow's tour as well! We'll go there after our meal here is done. There are places that play live music nearly 'round the clock, and we simply have to stop in at the Café du Monde for some chicory coffee and beignets…"

"It sounds wonderful!" Angela stood up and twirled around as the music skirled up to a glorious crescendo, and sang at the top of her voice, "_Laissez les bontemps rouler_!"

"That's the spirit!" Cassius applauded. "We'll make a native of you yet!"

A native? As in, living down here instead of returning to Manhattan? The thought gave Angela pause. Manhattan was _home_ now…

But this place was quite hospitable to gargoyles, unlike Manhattan, where they had gravel-sucking Quarrymen assassins who broke into their home and tried to murder them in their sleep!

But Manhattan was their sworn protectorate…

Oh, she'd think about that some other time. Or better yet, not think about it at all; let Goliath consider such things! Tonight, she was going to forget all her worries and cares, if only for a short time… She caroled even louder than before, "**_Let the good times roll_**!"

FINI


End file.
